


Someday

by BleuWaters



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 02:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10731921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleuWaters/pseuds/BleuWaters
Summary: Terushima Yuji or Yuuji x blind!reader. Requested by AngelDemon678 on Devaintart. Your mother promised a world filled with color after finding the man you would love forever. However, promises aren't always possible to keep.





	Someday

When you were young, you could watch the butterflies in the lilac bushes for hours. Inch worms and caterpillars would wiggle up and down branches and bees would buzz about to pick up pollen and nectar.

‘Someday,’ whispered Mom, ‘You will find your true love and you'll see the vibrant colors each of these delicate creations have. There, that butterfly is the palest yellow you could possibly find, and it's resting on a lilac so purple that it could put any other to shame. The leaves are dark green, the branches, an almost rusty brown. I know it's a long wait, but you'll see it someday.’

Alas, a vicious attack severed the dreams of that eight year old and you were plunged into a world of darkness. Depression swallowed you whole after the incident and you sat briefly in a world of silence, too. You didn't speak. You didn't eat. You barely drank water, and it made you feel nauseated. Psychiatrists wanted to put you on powerful antipsychotics to battle the depression, and physicians wanted to hospitalize you to be sure you got the fluids and nutrients you needed. Your mother refused the drugs but agreed to the hospital. You were there for two months.

Now, at the age of eighteen, you have grown accustomed to your handicap. You cling to the memories of images, but they have steadily faded away. The only things you ‘see' are in your dreams.

~o0o~

“I'm sorry, but because of your...condition, we cannot accept you into the marching band,” says the band director.

“I'm blind but I can still hear!” you say indignantly, “I'm the best percussionist in the school!”

“I know that! Heck, I told you that,” says the director, “But you kind of have to see where you're going in a marching band.”

“You can give me audio cues.”

“... Fine. We can give it a shot. First practice is on Monday.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, offering your hand to the director, “So much.”

He gently squeezes your hand in his. “I just don't want you to get hurt,” he says softly.

“I know,” you reply. The band director is a close family friend and he's known you since you were tiny. He's worked for the college even longer. “If I do, that's on me.”

“Careful on your way out,” he says, “The floorboard is loose in the doorway.”

You smile slightly as you tap the floor with your white cane. “Quit worrying,” you say, feeling along the floor, “Worrywort.”

You feel the small bump down as you leave the room and slide your foot up to it so it isn't a drop. Easy-peasy.

But then your foot catches abruptly on something, something a few inches off the floor, and your arms flail as you fall.

“Whoa,” says someone able to halt your descent and set you back on your feet “Sorry, didn't see you there.”

“I think that's my line,” you say, grinning, “No harm done. Excuse me.”

“Guess so. You're blind, right?” He has a foreign accent.

“I think you can see that for yourself better than I can,” you say, almost cringing at the pun, “Excuse me.”

“So you're gonna be in the marching band? Awesome. But won't it be kinda hard? You play percussion, right? How are you gonna know when to stop and turn and stuff?”

Your mom says that you're easily annoyed, not to mention what your brother thinks of you. You can agree sometimes, but other times, it's so beyond justified that you don't see why you can't snap at everyone that asks stupid questions. “Do you always talk so much?”

“Yeah,” he replies, and he pauses briefly, “My mom says I like the sound of my own voice.” You can tell that he's smiling.

“You know what? I think she's right. Excuse me.” And with that, you shove past him and make your way down the hall.

“Hey, wait!”

You push an annoyed sigh out through your teeth. “I'm going to be late for class, dude,” you say, “Don't you have a class to go to?”

“Well, yeah, we're in history together. Sorry if I said too much. I just think it's cool.”

You freeze. “ ‘Cool’?” you question, “What do you mean, ‘cool'?”

“Nothing, I'm just gonna shut up.”

“No, why is it ‘cool’?”

“I've never met anyone blind…” he says carefully, “I just...it's interesting…”

“Okay.” You don't want to be offended; you can understand his curiosity. But why did it have to be you? You've asked that question hundreds and hundreds of times.

After the class you shared with him -you don't even know his name- he came up to you and asked you, very excitedly, to have lunch with him.

“This isn't high school anymore,” you say, but you know you shouldn't be so sullen. He didn't mean any harm. “I don't have any more classes; I'm headed home.”

“Can I give you a lift?” Man, he didn't miss a beat.

“If you'll buy me (your fav. ethnic food) on the way,” you reply, and it earns you a hearty laugh.

“Sure thing. By the way, angel-eyes,” says the guy, draping his arm over your shoulders, “What's your name?”

You give it and he laughs again, far more gently this time.

“That's a pretty name,” he says softly, “Feels nice to say it. I'm Terushima Yuji. Japanese transfer student that hates school. Yuji is fine.”

“I knew you were Asian!” you exclaim, and you immediately drop your voice, “Yes!! I knew it! Oh! If you hate school so much, how is your English vocabulary so big?”

“I talk a lot,” is the simple answer and you snort.

“That's true,” you say, and you absently note that his thumb begins to stroke over your shoulder as the two of you walk the halls.

“So, (f/n)...I don't want to come off rude. Again,” starts Yuji, “So is it okay to ask you how you see me?”

“I do prefer the careful approach,” you murmur, “Let's see...You're taller than me by...hm...five inches? You pause while you talk. Speech impediment? Or distraction?”

“Tongue piercing,” clarifies Yuji, and again you hear his smile.

You turn and reach up, palm flat so you won't poke his eyes out, and you touch his hair.

“Ha! Damaged hair with product in it. Bleached undercut! Am I right?”

“Yup.”

“Thought so,” you say triumphantly, falling back into step, “Well, Yuji. Tell me something I don't know about you.”

“Wait, isn't it your turn?”

You scoff, but yield. “Fine. I bet you're wondering how I lost my sight.”

“Yeah…”

“I was in a really bad car accident. Really bad. Well, it was a motorcycle accident,” you pause briefly, “My dad was driving the motorcycle, and I was in the little passenger seat. Of all things, a tiny little Jetta hit us. We both went flying. Dad was fine, thank goodness. My helmet got crazy beat up and the visor shattered ‘cause it was cheap. Damaged my eyes. The doctor was great and got me sewed up so there's hardly any scarring, but he couldn't repair the damage to the eyes themselves.”

It wasn't an instantaneous loss. It took a couple days for your sight to fade away. That was scarier than the accident itself…

“That sucks,” Yuji says definitively, “A lot.”

“Yeah…” you agree quietly, “But my optometrist says there may be hope. He knows a really great surgeon that could work on me, maybe repair some of that damage. I'd probably be wearing Coke bottle glasses, but it'd be worth it.”

“You wanna hear something crazy?”

“Go for it.”

“I'm starting to see color.”

~o0o~

“How dare he!?” you growl, “We only just met and he's spewing about being soulmates!? The nerve!!”

“(F/n), that's how soulmates work,” says Mom, “You don't know until you do.”

“But he can't be my soulmate, Mom; it's impossible!”

“Why is it impossible?”

“Because I can't see in color!!” you scream, sending the house into a very uncomfortable stillness, “I can't...I can't see in color like you said I would. S-so it's impossible.”

“Darling...oh, my sweet girl…” Warm arms wrap around you as you begin to sob, and your mother strokes through your (h/c) hair. “Do you feel any different after meeting him?”

“No, I don't,” you snap, sniffling against your mom's shirt, “I'm sorry, Mama. I know you're trying to help. I just...I just want to see again. I want to have had the sudden color that I never would've expected.”

“Do you want to schedule surgery?”

You wipe the tears from your face with your sleeve. “I think...I want to talk to Yuji about it first.”

“And here you had me thinking the two of you weren't soulmates,” laughs your mom, “I love you so, my baby butterfly.”

~o0o~

“Hey,” chirps Yuji, sliding his hand into your hair as if he's known you his whole life. As if that's a good way to greet someone that popped you in the kisser the previous day.

“Hey yourself,” you reply, taking a breath, “You got my note?”

“Wouldn't be out here otherwise,” he laughs. The two of you sit on the bleachers that overlook the school's football field, way out in the middle of nowhere. Your seeing eye dog presses up against your leg and you rub its ear.

“Right...I wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay?” Yuji’s smile is tangible and you marvel at how incredibly expressive it is. You slide your fingertips up to his mouth and he silently lets you map out that happy grin.

“I'm thinking about restorative surgery,” you frown slightly, wondering if he'll understand, “To fix my eyes.” The smile slowly slides from Yuji’s face.

“That's gonna be pretty great,” he says, and a flicker of a smile twitches beneath your fingers, “Do you believe me now about the color?”

“I'm starting to,” you whisper. You did a lot of thinking last night. A lot. Didn't get much sleep. “My mom asked me if I felt different after meeting you. I can't explain it, but...I feel like...I feel like I've loved you for a long time.”

“Right? Right!?” Yuji laughs loudly and lifts his hands to yours. You note that they're warm and calloused and you slip yours back towards his ears. You feel metal studs and give a faint smile.

“Do you feel likewise?” you ask softly, closing your eyes, “Because my heart is aching for this to be real. Ugh. We’ve known each other a day and I'm already throwing myself at yo-”

Yuji effectively shushes you up with a firm kiss. It's brief, it's sweet, and it's enough to seal the deal. It's real.

~o0o~

Three months later, Yuji sits on your left side and your mom and dad sit on your right, and you lay on a rolling hospital gurney. Nerves boil deep in your gut and tears fill your eyes.

“What if it doesn't work?” you whisper.

“Then it doesn't work,” Mom replies, kissing your hand, “But it won't be the end of the world.”

“I think it'll work,” Yuji says confidently, and you smile despite your worry, “Ha! Made you smile. Now I know it'll work.”

“Right,” you say softly, and you feel the gurney begin to move as the nurse pushes you into the theater.

Though you're scared, the nurses are careful and kind, and the drugs knock you right out with no problem at all.

When you come out of it, your vision is still dark, but that's because you're bandaged up.

“That was shorter than I thought it would be,” says Yuji, tapping your knuckles against his chin, your hand tucked snigly in both of his. He probably wants to cover you in kisses, but with Dad there, he dare not. “How are you feeling?”

“Groggy. Really tired…” you murmur, “And kind of sore. Headache. Scratch that; face-ache.”

“That's to be expected,” says the doctor. She's really nice and her voice is gentle. “We're going to have you rest up for awhile before taking the bandages off. God willing, you'll be very sensitive to the light.”

You smile and nod almost imperceptibly. A couple kisses press to either side of your temple -one from Mom, one from Yuji- and they leave the room so you can sleep.

Soon, you think, relaxing into the bed, I'll be able to see soon.

~o0o~

“Doctor Smith, when can I see?” you ask impatiently. Surgery took place eighteen hours previous and you're practically shaking with excitement. You know that it worked. Light filtered through your eyelids when the nurse changed the bandages.

“As soon as your family gets here,” replies the doctor, “You won't let me say no anymore.”

“No, I won't,” you giggle breathlessly, and your hands begin to shake.

“Heya, angel-eyes!” You instinctively turn your head towards Yuji’s voice. “I got here before your parents. Nice. How ‘bout a kiss?”

The doctor laughs. “I'll step out and wait for mom and dad,” she says.

After a moment, Yuji's lips press to yours and you start laughing giddily, cutting off the kiss before it can get going.

“It worked,” you say, kissing your soulmate once more, “I know it worked.” 

“Well, that ain't a sight I’ve ever been interested in seeing,” says Dad, clearing his throat.

“Oh, hush,” replies Mom, and she takes your hand, “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Am I ever,” you say.

“Here we go! The great reveal…” murmurs Doctor Smith, and taking great care, she peels the bandages from over your eyes.

“Wait, I want to record this,” says Mom, and she hastily gets her phone out, “Oh, I'm gonna cry.”

“Me, too,” you say, twining your fingers with Yuji's, “Are you ready, Mom?”

“Yeah.”

Nothing could have prepared you for the wave of raw emotion that floods your heart the moment your eyes open. Tears gather and drop freely, fat and clean and ecstatic. You see your mama first, with her unchanging, loving smile and watery eyes. Then you see Daddy, who tries to act tough and composed even as tears that mirror your own flow down his cheeks.

Then you see him, and brightness begins to paint him and the world surrounding him.

“No way,” you whisper, choking on a joyful laugh, “You're so handsome.”

And when he laughs…

So that's what his smile looks like.


End file.
